


The Medicine Runner

by Introverted_Survivalist



Category: Trolls (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death, F/M, Forbidden Love, Forced Marriage, Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:20:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23266084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Introverted_Survivalist/pseuds/Introverted_Survivalist
Summary: Their forbidden love was like the whiteKona Snowof the surrounding coffee trees. Young and beautiful, a pure blossom.A young, orphaned grey troll finds himself falling for the daughter of the king and plantation owner of the village while working under a doctor as a medicine runner and an apprentice.She just seems yet too far away to reach, but he knows he will one day.
Relationships: Branch/Poppy (Trolls)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 33





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Trolls.
> 
> And my god, I love Branch.

At the turn of the century, foreign plantation workers flood into Troll Village, bringing new diseases with them. In 1919, the flu claimed many lives. The trolls were the largest population of workers and suffered the most.

...

_To say that the lands of where the Trolls inhabited were beautiful would have been a underestimate. They were beautiful without a doubt—green, luscious trees and forests spread cross across wide mountain regions, waterfalls almost like shimmering gold itself, tumbling down cliffs that could awe anyone with its view. Quiet fields and the perfect gifts of Mother Nature herself._

_It was but one life, whether we spent it in loving or in weeping. Our story begins high in the mountains, where the coffee grew, an island within an island. A place where many creatures came to work and live in pursuit of a new life._

_A young troll, colors a dull grey and black, was left an orphan when a foreign sickness struck the land. To protect that boy, his mother had hidden him from the small community of coffee pickers, who believed such grey trolls brought shame and bad luck. Nobody knew that the little boy existed._

_This terrible disease did not discriminate between race and class. King Peppy, not only the ruler of the village but the plantation owner, was forever changed upon the passing of his beloved wife. On that very sad day, Princess Poppy was then without a parent._

_And so, two children from very different worlds were both left without their mothers._

_The young grey troll, after the death of his one lasting parent, began to live on his own, but treated as an outcast among the other trolls. And young Poppy, princess and daughter of the King, stayed in the safe harbors of her home, her father in fear of losing the little girl just like what had happened to his dear wife._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploaded: March 23rd, 2020.


	2. The Grey Troll

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own Trolls.

The five-year-old grey troll sat on the ground, knees pulled up to his chest as he rested his chin on his leg. Arm outstretched in front of him, he dangled the small golden pendant in front of his face, studying the complex, elaborated designs that swirled around the small object in fancy patterns.

The door he had been leaning against bumped onto his spine, and the boy immediately got to his feet and began marching away.

“You don't belong here.” A voice called out, and he didn’t look back or attempt to listen. “Go away, grey freak.”

He found his way to the oh-so-familiar village market and his bare feet scruffled against the dirt. Ignoring trolls’ stares and mothers pulling children away from him just to avoid the bad luck, he glanced up at the sunlight shining in through the tattered pieces of cloth draped over selling stands as a makeshift roof. The apple seeds he had found earlier were held tightly in his hand as he looked for a single scrap of food. He carefully avoided a troll spitting at him, and made sure he didn’t accidentally complain.

The little troll found himself staring at a small fruit stand, and he couldn’t help but crave the rich, juicy flavor in his mouth like the famished little boy he was. He licked his dry lips just at the thought and looked enviously at another young troll at the front of the line dropping several coins into the small bucket upfront and taking a berry, shoving it into his mouth—he brought his hand up, loosened his fist to take a glance at the apple seeds, sure that they would suffice.

When he got to the front of the line, he stepped up right in front of the troll across the stand. “Good morning, sir.” The little troll greeted and dropped his prized seeds into the bucket, immediately taking a berry out of the basket and taking a bite of the juicy, sweet goodness. The various flavors melted in his mouth and he looked up at the salesman as he chewed. When the older troll did nothing else, the grey troll turned around and started walking off when a voice behind his back made him freeze in place.

“Hey! Grey troll! Where’s your money?” The boy turned on his heels to see the tall troll approaching him with an enraged look locked onto his face. He had paid, hadn’t he? He was sure he had.

Not sure what to do, the grey troll nodded at him, anxiety prodding at his heart. “Thank you very much.” The boy said out loud, taking another bite out of the fruit. 

“Pay up, grey freak!” The older troll snapped, and when the little troll did nothing, the man reared back his hand and slapped him in the face, making him sprawl across the floor. _“Pay up!”_ The little boy wrapped his arms around his head for defense, and the salesman was just about to smack the boy again when a voice interrupted him.

“Excuse me, there must be a better alternative than beating the kid senseless.” An elderly troll, a female, stepped up to the two and dug into her handbag. She fished out several coins and dropped them into the salesman’s hands. “Here. This should cover you for whatever the boy owes you.” With a matter of complaint, the troll walked away, and the boy slowly removed his hands from his face. The sunlight shone directly into his eyes, and he couldn’t help but squint.

The female troll kneeled down in front of him, studying his face. She was rather surprised to find the boy grey, but she didn’t show too much reaction. “Now, let’s have a look at you, young man.”

The grey troll, for a short, brief moment, looked her over—purple, lavender skin with teal-colored hair, soft, kind eyes and a kind smile. Before the elderly troll knew it, the boy was darting away, back on his feet. He disappeared into the crowd without a trace. “Let me take a look at you—“ She called out, but the grey troll didn’t return. With a small sigh, she rose back onto her feet.

____________________

“Half.” She repeated very slowly. “I sailed 2,500 miles at my own expense, I climbed all the way up this goddamn mountain with this body, and now, sir, you’re telling me I’ll only be making half of what was agreed upon in writing?” The female troll sighed and leaned back into her chair. “I’d like to speak with King Peppy.”

“I’m his plantation foreman.” The green troll in front of her said with a sigh. “I speak for him. The coffee market drives everything here. Right now the whole mountain is in middle of cutbacks.”

“Alright, when’s the next boat leaving for the Mainlands?” The older troll inquired, twisted her hands in her dress on her laps.

“A month.”

“A month? I just about spent everything I had getting here.”

“Listen, we need a doctor.” The green troll started. “We’ve lost many to the plague, including the queen just two days ago. How about I work in a housing arrangement and some store credit?”

The female troll sighed in defeat. “Alright, just pay me whatever you can for the month and I’ll see if I can make do. If not, I take the next boat back.”

The troll nodded in understanding, and they both stood up from their seats for a simple shake of their hands. “Uh, ma’am, the accommodations aren’t what you’re used to.” The troll said. 

“That’s fine. And please, call me Rosiepuff.” She said quietly.

As the carriage carrying both trolls disappeared into the trees along the rocky paths pulled by a spider, Branch watched from not too far away, perched on top of a roof of a house. His big eyes followed it until it soon vanished from sight.

The carriage soon slowed to a halt in front of an old, rickety house that looked as if it hadn’t been used in ages. Carefully hopping off, Rosiepuff thanked the troll and began dragging her suitcase behind her.

The house, as speculated, was tangled in vines and encased with a whole lot of dust—she made her way though the mess, quietly accepting her fate. Guessed she should have known this was going to happen if he came to work as a doctor on a plantation farm. “How am I even supposed to get back to the village—“ She questioned herself quietly before finding a place to sleep for the night.

____________________

It was eventually her own feet that carried her to work. It didn’t really please her, her legs were tired when she eventually arrived at the borders of troll village, but it was just the first day—Rosiepuff decided to keep her complaints to herself. Just for now.

She soon found herself back at a stand, sipping coffee from a small mug. Her fingers were curled around the handle, and glancing behind, she found the same little grey troll sitting on top of a roof, staring right back at them—forcing a small cough, the doctor turned back to the salesman in front of her.

Another troll, whom Rosiepuff immediately recognized as the plantation foreman from the day before, marched over to them holding out his own mug. “One mug full, please.”

“Good morning, sir.” Rosiepuff greeted with a managed smile, and the troll returned it.

“Good morning to you too, Doctor. How do you like the Kona coffee?”

“Oh, the coffee’s fine.” She replied. “I’m not too happy about the stench of my new place.” She found herself looking back at the small troll on the roof and completely turned around to face him. “What’s with that boy?” Rosiepuff inquired aloud, and the troll also turned to find the young child.

For now, the grey troll seemed to be busy picking at a thread on the sleeve of his worn jacket, brows knitted in concentration. “I don’t know.” He replied truthfully. “He just showed up out of nowhere.”

Before Rosiepuff could ask further, a glitter troll rushed up to them, almost stumbling into the mayor’s arms. “Sir, sir, my wife, she’s sick.” “Calm down, it’s going to be alright, this troll here is a doctor.” He reassured the frantic glitter troll.

“Alright, well, what are the symptoms?” Rosiepuff asked, picking up her briefcase.

“She’s not breathing, she can’t breath.” The glitter troll answered, obviously panicked, his hands clutching onto the bigger troll’s arms.

“Listen. Some of these folks may need convincing when it comes to modern medicine, doctor.” The troll told Rosiepuff, inaudible to everyone else but her.

She nodded in response as she set the mug back onto the counter. “That’s alright, I’ve tried this before. It won’t be too difficult.”

As she left the village market with the glitter troll, the child perked up and watched as the two disappeared—before his own curiosity won him over and he slid off the rooftop, landing perfectly on the ground onto his feet, and began running after them through the thick mass of forest trees.

Rosiepuff followed the glitter troll into the woods, and her eyes fell upon on an old, dirty hut in front of them, no doubt where the poor guy lived with his sick wife. She stepped into the small structure, trying not to grimace at the stench that stung her nose.

“Are you okay? I brought a doctor, everything will be just fine.” The glitter troll kneeled sat down beside the seemingly feverish troll on the bed, her face red and swollen, writhing. Rosiepuff could smell blood.

She found another chair beside the window and pulled it up, setting the briefcase at the foot of the bed. Her eyes scanned over and found the source of the most of the odor—a dead rat lay at the corner of the room, body half sticking out of the wall and flies flying around the already decaying lump. “Oh god, is that the thing that bit her?”

The glitter troll nodded a yes in return and nodded towards his wife. In a hurry, Rosiepuff pulled out a stethoscope from her briefcase and listened to her heartbeat—it was slow. Too slow for her liking. “Anaphylaxis.” She muttered under her breath. “Okay, she had an allergic reaction.” She set down the stethoscope and rummaged through her briefcase, finding a small metal box and opened the lid—she showed it to the glitter troll, and he stared back at the pointy syringe and the small bottle of liquid sitting inside.

“What is that?”

“This is adrenalin.” She explained, holding it up. “She needs it, or she’s going to die.”

The glitter troll immediately got to his feet, face contorted in rage and confusion. “You’re not sticking that pointy needle into my wife!”

“Trust me, it’s going to help.” Rosiepuff claimed, equally getting to her feet as she inserted the serum into the narrow syringe, doing the work quickly and efficiently with skilled hands. “It’s not an option—“

But before she could do anything else, the glitter troll swung his hand and knocked the syringe out of her hand. It tumbled onto the floor and the glass cracked open, the adrenaline spilling onto the ground. “You idiot.” She seethed, looking at the mess. “You stupid fool.” She bent over and dug her hands into the bag. Nothing. She was out. Rosiepuff looked around the room for anything to help her, and her eyes fell onto the grey troll who was peeking into the room, fingers latching onto the doorway. “You! Boy! Come here!”

With a bit of hesitation, the child stepped away from the threshold and walked carefully into the house, hands behind his back and fingers entwined in a mess.

“That’s right, I need your help.” She stated firmly and stood up, marching right up to the young troll—he didn’t seem either intimidated nor scared. The glitter troll followed right behind, studying the orphaned boy’s raggedy figure.

“Grey freak! This isn’t a place for you to be! Go now, shoo!” The glitter troll reached out and made an attempt to push the child out the door, but Rosiepuff managed to block him from the front.

In response, the young troll backed away and stared up at the face of the doctor. “He wishes me to leave. Grey trolls bring bad luck.”

“Not now they don’t.” Rosiepuff grabbed her briefcase and held it out for the boy to see. “I have another one like this. My house is the last one off the main road on the left-hand side, you can’t miss it.” She instructed slowly, making sure the child understood. “There’s a red fence in front, got it?”

Just then, the enraged glitter troll shoved both of them out the door and slammed it shut behind them—Rosiepuff released a long sigh, and the boy stood there staring up at her. “What the hell was I thinking...” She muttered as she watched the grey troll turn and pick up his pace, running through the trees as fast as his legs could carry him. “Run, boy.” She whispered under her breath as the troll disappeared from her sight.

Minutes passed, maybe thirty, maybe a whole hour. No, it couldn’t have been so long. Rosiepuff leaned against the walls of the old house, taking the third glance at her watch. “Come on.” She muttered, peering towards the direction the boy had gone—had he found the wrong house? Bailed? Maybe he had. He _was_ just a little boy, after all, what was she to expect?

All thoughts disappeared into thin air when the grey troll appeared, beads of sweat dripping down the sides of his head across his temples, panting heavily as he skid to a stop in front of Rosiepuff. A smile broke onto her face as she took the familiar brown briefcase from his hands and tousled his black hair. “Attaboy.” She said quietly before pushing the door back open, and still trying to catch his breath, the little boy followed her inside.

The glitter troll hadn’t left his wife’s side, nursing her helplessly by wringing a wet rag and dabbing it against her forehead to break the fever, of course to no avail. His head snapped back towards the door when it swung open, and he got to his feet, enraged to find the grey troll still with Rosiepuff. “Make the boy leave! He’s a—“ With sudden great adrenaline, she grabbed hold of the troll’s shoulder and managed to shove him out the door, catching the glitter troll by surprise. Rosiepuff closed the door behind her and locked it up immediately, ignoring the desperate banging and shouts from the other side. She noticed the grey troll watching her with wide eyes, and she gave him a rather confident nod.

“It’s alright, kid.” She said with an exhale as she folded up her sleeves. “I’m a doctor.”

She got the same syringe ready with the same antidote and reached across the bed to tug up her clothes and expose her thigh—the grey troll watched with wide eyes, peering over from the side to take a closer look.

“Okay—“ Rosiepuff slowly injected the adrenalin into her and sat back, watching with pure relief spreading across her entire body as the bedridden troll’s rapid breathing decrease in speed. “That should do the trick.” She looked up to the boy who stared back at her. “Can’t have my first patient dying on me, can I?”

The louder and stronger banging on the doors suddenly caught both of their attention, and Rosiepuff couldn’t help but smile at the sense of accomplishment she felt. “You can let him in now.” He said to the grey troll, nodding towards the door.

____________________

Rosiepuff sat on the bench outside the house, things having been settled rather quickly, contrary to her belief. She watched as the little boy packed her bags for her, latching the lock on her second briefcase with a quiet click. “So, boy.” She started as the troll fumbled with the other locks as well. “What’s your name?”

The grey troll looked up at her in surprise, lips slightly parted. “Your name.” Rosiepuff repeated. “So I’ll know what to call you.”

“Branch.”

“Hmm... Branch.” She repeated the name, the words somewhat felt familiar as it rolled off her tongue. “Branch... is that your full name? Is there more?”

“Just Branch.”

“Alright, Branch.” She said with a soft sigh, fixing up her sleeves. “All this chaos is making me hungry. What do you say we go back to the village and get something to eat?”

Branch nodded eagerly, and he picked up her briefcase from the floor the same time she got to his feet and followed her back to the trees, through the path and down to the village.

“So,” The plantation foreman greeted them as he stood up from his table, stepping out into the open. “... how did the first doctoring go?”

“Well, she’s going to make it.” Rosiepuff replied, pulling the grey troll over and keeping a firm grasp on his shoulder. “Thanks to this little youngster right here.” She picked him up and set him onto the table, who looked up at both trolls. They stared back. “Little boy, why don’t you tell us where you’re from, so we can help you?”

The grey troll glanced behind him and pointed towards the high mountains in the distance.

“Up mauka, the mountain?”

He nodded as he turned back to face the adults in front of him.

“Where are your parents?” Rosiepuff asked. “Mother, father?”

Without a word, Branch reached into the pocket of his tattered shorts and pulled out the golden pendant hanging by the rusty chain—he handed it to the plantation foreman and he took it.

“... Primrose?”

“Mama.” The little boy said out loud at the name, looking up at the troll with innocent eyes.

The older troll turned to Rosiepuff, clutching the pendant in his hands. “She lived in isolation, high up in the mountains on the other side of the valley. She picked her coffee alone, was a bit of a recluse. We lost her to the plague... I didn’t know she had a kid.” Branch outstretched his arms, and he handed the grey troll back his pendant, which he tuck back safely into his pocket. “And even if I did, I certainly wouldn’t have known that her son was a grey troll.”

Suddenly concerned for the health of the young child, Rosiepuff gently took hold of his head and inspected his eye. “She kept you hidden all this time? Why would she do that?”

“Because...” The foreman carefully grabbed her arm and pulled her so that both their backs faced the child. “... because he’s probably a bastard.” He whispered, inaudible to the boy’s ears. “Maybe some fling with another grey troll, and now he’s a grey one too. And trolls here think he brings shame to anyone he’s near. A grey freak.”

“I really wish they would stop using those words.” Rosiepuff shook her head, gaze softening.

The boy swung his legs back and forth, gripping the edge of the table.

“Maybe some family in the mainland will take him.” The foreman suggested.

“Let me guess; boat leaves when, in a month?” Rosiepuff retorted. The other troll didn’t say anything in response. The grey troll looked up at them in plain curiosity. With a sigh, she reached over and picked him up, setting him down back onto the ground. “Alright, boy. Come on, you’re gonna live with me.” She picked up her briefcase and walked out of the room, little boy right at her heels.

She managed to get herself a spider and carriage to take her this time, and it was a good thing too, because Rosiepuff could have sworn she would have gone ballistic if she had to climb another mountain on her own feet again. “Boy, you got anything up there worth keeping?” She called out once the horse seemed to have traveled far from the village. There wasn’t really a response. “I’ll take that as a yes.” She said.

She glanced back briefly from the reigns to see Branch holding onto the carriage, taking in his surroundings slowly around the depths of the mountain and tall trees. “If it’s the plague you’re concerned with, there’s nothing to worry about.” Rosiepuff mentioned. “Disease, it dies with the victim.” Still no response—the boy was a quiet one.

The trip to mauka mountain was quite shorter than expected. The tamed spider moved fast, and so did she, gripping reigns tight as slopes steeped higher and higher. It was a hard climb, but when Branch yelled out—a cry that had almost made her drop the reigns—and pointed towards a shabby old hut situated in between thick trees, a surprisingly open area amidst the mountain rocks.

She hopped off the carriage and the little troll did the same, hurrying over to the house and tugging the door open. Dust and small pieces of debris rained from above him, and for a second Rosiepuff was terrified that the roof would come crashing onto him—only it didn’t. With a shaky exhale, she tied her handkerchief over her nose and mouth just in case, and followed him inside.

It wasn’t very much to look at. The walls were charred and black, sunlight seeping in through many cracks in between the wooden planks forming the structure. A shelf of old books stood on one side, a wooden drawer at the other.

Branch, on entering, stood at the entrance, slowly taking in the familiar surrounding of his previous home. He walked over to a small wooden table in the corner of the hut, just a single room and a bed lying in the corner, covers smudged with dirt and strewn across the wooden mattress. Picking up a small book, which Rosiepuff recognized to be an English dictionary, Branch dug his fingers in between the pages and pulled out a photograph.

With the photograph in both hands caught between his fingers, he made his way to the bed and plopped down onto the mattress, staring into it longingly—Rosiepuff stood beside him for a while, trying to focus on the ripped patch on his shorts. “Is that your mother?” She finally asked.

In response, he looked back up at her and handed her the photo. She took hold of it and looked into the female troll in the picture, slowly tracing the black-and-white colored dress and the subtle smile. The resemblance was clear.

“... I’ve lost family.” She said softly and slowly sat next to the young troll on the bed. “It’s a terrible thing. But you got to keep on going, right?” She reached up to carefully pat the boy on the back in comfort. With an exhale through her nose, Rosiepuff slowly stood and handed the photograph back to Branch. “I’ll be outside, take your time.”

____________________

It hadn’t taken him too long to come out of the broken hut, and the drooped ears almost went unnoticed by Rosiepuff.

They had headed back to the village, because of course, business called—and she definitely wanted to make sure the trolls all knew that there was now a doctor to rely on. She made her way through the coffee fields, tugging the grey troll along in tow. Trolls of different colors were all working left and right, and this sight was indeed pitiful to Rosiepuff. She stopped at a small family of two young daughters and a female troll picking at a stem. “Good morning. Looks like the whole family’s hard at work.” She greeted with a smile. “You can call me Doc, and this is Branch.” She gestured towards the grey troll at her side.

Not surprisingly, after taking a look at Branch and his dull combination of colors, the mother tugged her daughters close and pulled them both away, muttering insults underneath her breath. The little troll dropped his head in shame, and Rosiepuff gently pulled Branch to her side. “Not too sociable.” She muttered. “Come on.”

After making brief introductions to all the farmers and families—most of them decided to back away once they saw the grey troll beside her, but she tried to ignore them as much as possible—Rosiepuff made her way to the edge of the fields and onto the road. Branch sprinted up next to her, her briefcase held tightly in both hands.

Rosiepuff could see a carriage being pulled by two spiders not too far off, and her gaze stiffened when it neared when she spotted the familiar face of King Peppy—ruler of troll village. Small nods of greetings were exchanged as it passed by, but Branch’s eyes were fixed on the little pink troll sitting in the back, almost-glowing marching pink hair tied up right above her. The leafy crown tangled with flowers sat on top of her head, and her little fingers gripped the carriage tightly—their eyes met, and both didn’t seem to want to stop.

As the carriage passed by, she lifted her hand sheepishly and waved at him—the grey troll, almost in a trance, stumbled and fell on his knees into a pile of dry leaves—she giggled, and the awed look on Branch’s face didn’t go away.

____________________

“You know, Branch, you seemed pretty smitten with the big man’s pretty daughter.” Rosiepuff spoke out a subtle smile. The carriage dragged along the dirt road, and Branch sad nothing.

“These girls get prettier and prettier, and the prettier they get, the crazier they might get.” She briefly turned around, and Branch brought a finger up next to his ear and spun it around, a subtle smile on his face. “Yes, crazy.” She confirmed with a small chuckle.

The carriage trailed on and on down the bumpy path, the sun barely above the horizon like a graceful ballerina on a tightrope, casting a golden glow upon the land beneath it, about to leave the sky with the moon and the stars.

From then, all seemed fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated: March 23rd, 2020


	3. Medicine Runner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK.~~
> 
> I had to write this goddamn chapter three times because Google is so so fucking stupid.
> 
> And also, my iPad has a weird habit of fixing ‘and’ into ‘Andy’, so don’t mind it if you see any.
> 
> I don’t own Trolls.

____________________

** Ten Years Later... **

____________________

Time flew like an arrow.

As time passed, so did the disease that plagued the land. And under the guidance of Doc, a former outcast of the village had grown into a young teenage boy, a valuable member of the small community.

And there he sat, legs dangling off a bridge as he chewed on a berry that fit right in his hand, feet swinging back and forth. Water rushed underneath him, just a short distance away. A satchel rested at his side, strap over his shoulder and across his chest. A dark green vest over his fit torso, along with a pair of brown shorts to match.

A glitter troll, just few years older, slowly approached the bridge on his carriage, attached to the reigns he was holding a tamed spider. Upon seeing this, the boy hopped off the ledge and stretched his legs a bit, popped several joints in his neck. A friendly rivalry had grown between Guy Diamond, the driver, and Branch, the medicine runner. A daily event everyone in troll village looked forward to.

Branch glanced in the troll’s direction just as the carriage ceased to a halt right beside him, and their eyes met. Guy gave him a familiar smile—Branch returned it with a smirk of his own.

“Hyah!” Guy Diamond whipped the reigns and the spider took off, a starting signal for Branch himself. He darted ahead, his legs carrying him as fast as they could go, and he soon disappeared into the trees and bushes while the carriage turned to move towards another path.

Branch ran through the trees, over familiar dirt paths that he had managed to memorize over the years. Small twigs and bark scratched at his arms, making minor cuts over similar ones, but he didn’t care, couldn’t even feel them at all. The wind blew against his face, nibbling on his cheeks and flying against his hair. He deeply inhaled the scent of the lush greenery around him, as it became his surroundings, his background.

He could hear, through the thick trees and shrubs, the cries and shouts of Guy Diamond, legs running along roads, wooden wheels rolling over bumpy dirt paths. With a grunt, Branch stumbled back onto the road to meet the driver and his carriage, sprinting right alongside it.

He could then start to see the outline of troll village, could hear the cheers and shouts of trolls at the marketplace, the makeshift rooftops made of cloth draped over poles. The excitement grew, and he could hear his own heart thumping against his chest, blood pumping in his ears. He let a laugh escape his throat as he ran, bare feet thumping against the dirt path.

When he made it to the market first, Branch headed over to the pot that hung from a string, attached to one of the poles at the sale stands and grabbed a ladle that lay on a wooden counter. He picked it up and hit the pot with it, smiling to himself. Trolls cheered loudly, and the loud ‘clang’ that represented his victory resonated throughout the village, thus announcing the beginning of another day.

Not too far away, a young female troll, hair and skin as pink as bubblegum, perked up from her work table upon hearing the noise—leaving her favorite pair of scissors and her scrapbooking material on the desk, she stood from her chair hastily and tried to make her way to the window. But as she spun around, her side bumped into the bed and the sewing stand crashed onto the floor, trapping her ankle. She winced. “Shit.” She muttered, and managed to yank her foot out, scrambling over to the windowsill to take a look out, down at the marketplace. Her eyes found the grey troll she had been looking for.

Each morning, King Peppy’s daughter, Poppy, would watch from her window, high up on the hill. It was on this day that a simple injury set in motion a series of events that would change the small village forever.

Princess Poppy watched as the grey troll sat at a water basin made of stone, splashing it onto his face and washing his hands and arms, wiping the perspiration away. Almost in awe, she then turned away to face the fallen sewing table—that’s when she was reminded of the sharp pain at the lower part of her appendage. With a grimace, she found her ankle rather red and a bit swollen. Poppy was suddenly trapped in thought before turning to the doorway.

“Smidge!”

____________________

Machinery whirred and steamed, trolls were busy at work, and the air smelled off burnt coffee beans.

“Shut that thing off before it burns this place down!” King Peppy called out as he swatted at the steam crowding around his head.

“Your majesty, maybe we should consider selling assets... starting with some of this machinery.” A troll remarked, chasing after the man, fixing his spectacles. “The bank is losing patience.”

“And who exactly would buy this machinery?” The King retorted and continued his way down the flight of stairs.

“We could sell the cinema.” The troll spoke out.

“The cinema has a broken projector.” King Peppy snapped before shaking his head. “Look, I’m not selling anything, you need to buy me some time. I do _not_ care how you do it.” He then turned away and marched down the rest of the stairs.

It wasn’t long before the king spotted Smidge, his daughter’s caretaker, fidgeting rather nervously around the group of trolls tying up bags of coffee beans. “What is it, Smidge, is Poppy alright?”

“Princess Poppy has sprained her ankle, I believe she needs to see the doctor.” Smidge replied, her voice deep and scratchy as always despite her rather short height.

“A trip to the main village isn’t exactly necessary for a sprained ankle.” King Peppy said slowly, raising a bushy eyebrow as he dipped his hands into one of the bags to take a whiff. Deep, rich coffee. He dropped them back in and dusted his hands.

“I meant Doctor Rosiepuff. She could come to the house.” Smidge said.

“Have I not made myself clear on how I feel about that country doctor?” King Peppy snapped as he looked down at the smaller troll. “Do you have any idea how many germs she must be carrying around, treating all those people?”

“Princess Poppy also has a slight fever.” Smidge added, her hands clenching and unclenching nervously at her sides. “Or maybe just the ankle.”

“A fever?” The king perked up, his big ears twitching and his eyes widening.

Smidge nodded. “Perhaps we can take certain precautions for the examination.”

King Peppy stood still, deep in thought before he released a heavy, irritated sigh. “Fine.” He muttered and turned around, walking away—Smidge bowed towards the king before running off towards the direction she remembered the doctor’s workplace to be.

On the way, right as she passed by the post office, she spotted a young grey troll exiting the small pod—he found her as well, turned to her with a quick smile. Smidge returned it with her own. She had known this grey troll all her life—and she knew he was, indeed, the doctor’s apprentice.

“Princess Poppy, she’s hurt her ankle.” Smidge said. “May the doctor come and examine it?”

“Princess Poppy?” Branch’s eyes widened at the name, and he had to keep himself from blushing like crazy. Even though he only remembered the girl from his childhood, he could envision how the princess actually looked by now. Even more prettier. Just like Rosiepuff had said. “Well, uh, the doctor’s left for the main village. She’s picking up a pharmaceutical order—she’ll be back in two days.” He managed an apologetic look.

“Oh. I see.” Smidge bit her lip. “I guess we’ll just have to wait until then.” She then turned around and hopped off the porch of the post office, starting to walk away when—

“Wait.”

Smidge turned around to face the grey troll once again, raising an eyebrow in question. He cleared his throat, nervously clutching the strap of his satchel. “I am very qualified to tend to such emergencies. Doc has been training me for many years, and... she’s asked me to represent her while she’s gone.”

“Oh. Alright. Sweet.” Smidge nodded with a smile.

“Really?” Branch blinked in surprise before clearing his throat. “I, um... I’m gonna go get my bag.” And with that he leaped off the porch and darted off quickly, leaving Smidge where she stood.

____________________

The main village was a very busy place. Many tradings, many official affairs, many governmental compromises. It was a place of business.

“Dr. Rosiepuff, you’ve clearly been told multiple times that the Color Integrity Guidelines are in place to discourage adoption of grey trolls. That combined with the lack of any sort of birth certificate makes this a practically impossible case. Might I suggest you reach out to the officials where they can help find parents for the boy?”

“Listen, you—I mean, sir.” Rosiepuff cleared her throat. “As you’re well aware, I have been trying for years to adopt this kid, give him some sort of legal standing. I believe this young man has the makings of a physician, and I intend to do everything within my power to make that happen.”

“... Well, it’s extremely unlikely, but I suppose we could appeal to the Child Welfare League across the lands. You’ll have to cover the cost of the trip, my expenses, a fee to prioritize this case over everything else. This is going to be quite the tidy sum, Dr. Rosiepuff. Even then, I cannot guarantee that they will give a favorable outcome or even review your case.”

Rosiepuff then slapped a stack of dollars onto the table, tied up neatly with two rubber bands. “This is all I got.” She said quietly. “Make it a priority.”

____________________

When Branch arrived in front of the king’s living quarters, he hadn’t expected the place to be so big—it had been a while since he had seen a rather large house, and it hadn’t even been as huge as this one.

Briefcase gripped tight in his hand, he made his way along the path over the green lawn, glancing back and forth in sign of anyone, Smidge in particular—but he couldn’t find a single troll. Feeling a little confused and overwhelmed, he made his way to the porch, taking a quick glance at the potted plants and flowers laid on the steps. He leaned in, spotted a troll maid on the floor, scrubbing the wooden planks with a wet sponge, but no sign of Smidge.

He found a small bell hanging by the porch, a long rope hanging underneath it—Branch grabbed it and gave it a good shake. In a few seconds, someone burst in through the door, almost scaring him to death.

“Thanks for coming, Branch. Wait for a moment here, will you?” Smidge have the boy a quick smile and disappeared behind the front door once again, leaving Branch no time to reply. With an awkward cough, he put both hands behind his back and waited patiently.

____________________

“No!”

“King Peppy, she can’t walk. It might have caused some permanent damage.”

Poppy hopped off her bed and limped across the room, kneeling down beside the air vent to listen.

“He has been training under Doc for years.”

“Absolutely out of the question! I don’t even want him on our front porch, let alone Poppy’s bedroom. Send that boy away!”

Poppy’s brows knitted into a frown as she eavesdropped—and meanwhile, Branch had heard the whole thing, and was biting his lip, fidgeting with the handle of his briefcase. Should he leave? They didn’t want him here, it felt like the right thing.

She stood up and leaned against the wall, minding her sprain—her eyes fell onto the vase of flowers that stood a mere foot away from her bed, and her lips curled up into a smile.

Branch watched as Smidge exited the front door, and he knew what was about to come. “I’m really sorry, Branch... but—“

A loud crash from the house interrupted her, along with a scream, and Branch flinched. Smidge’s eyes widened and she began to back off into the house. “I’ll be right back.” She then ran in through the door, and Branch, biting the inside of his cheek, stood in place, fidgeting the same. His ears perked up when he heard voices from inside.

“Poppy, what happened?”

“I fell. I thought I could walk but it’s really painful.”

“Fine, alright, fine. Smidge, go and fetch the grey one.”

It wasn’t long until Smidge showed up once again—a subtle smile on her face—and let him follow her into the house and up the stairs. The house smelled pleasant, of lavender and fresh mint.

When he reached the second story, Branch came face-to-face with King Peppy himself—he swallowed and nodded in mute greeting. He did not nod back, and the deep scowl on his face made Branch sure of how much the man did not like him inside his home. “Given the exceptional circumstances, I’m allowing limited access to see if you can bring some relief to my daughter’s pain.”

Branch’s eyes widened in surprise when a maid came over with a white cloth and tied it around his nose and mouth. He fought the urge to say something incredibly sarcastic about the whole thing, but managed to keep his own big mouth shut. Paranoid much.

“I must be out of my mind.” King Peppy muttered before stepping out of the room. “I have urgent business to attend to.”

As soon as the troll’s presence was nonexistent in the room, Branch slowly made his way over to the bed, white laced curtains surrounding all four sides of the piece of furniture. He couldn’t see her, but he could easily sense that Princess Poppy was inside. His heart thumped inside his chest, and the room suddenly felt very very hot.

“Poppy. Please show our young...” Smidge turned to Branch with a reassuring smile. “... doctor, your injury.”

Slowly, a foot pushed its way through the curtains, revealing pink soft skin and a bruised ankle. Branch couldn’t help but peer in through the crack and stiffened when his eyes met with the princess’s face—her hair neatly tied in a ponytail above her head, glitter freckles sparkling with a soft glow from the sunlight, staring back at him with curious eyes. Branch stared back—damn, she was pretty.

Smidge quickly reached over and closed the gap with her fingers. Embarrassed, Branch snapped out of his trance and stared at her foot instead. “That’s is all that is injured, and that is all you need to see.” Smidge said, and he nodded quickly, muttering an apology.

Carefully, he took hold of her foot, lifting it up from the mattress and making sure he had a gentle grip with his fingers. “Uh, miss, could you put pressure on it?”

Poppy did so and winced, her muscles tensing a little at the sharp sting that traveled up her nerves.

Branch inspected her foot from different angles, still keeping a gentle hold. “I don’t think it’s broken... yeah, I believe it’s sprained.”

“Well, that’s good to hear.” Smidge smiled and Branch nodded before opening his briefcase and taking out a fresh roll of bandages. He then carefully began to wrap the bandages around her foot and ankle, carefully not to let any skin show between them. He found himself looking in between the reopened gap between the curtains—and Branch could see her smiling face, looking back at him. After making sure the knot was tight, he stood from his kneeled position.

“I’ll give a report to Doc as soon as she returns.”

“Thank you for the service, Branch... I’ll see you out.” Smidge headed towards the door and Branch followed suit—he stopped right before he disappeared down the stairs, his eyes meeting hers once more. Poppy stared back, the same smile on her face.

“Bye.” Branch called out quietly before descending down the steps, without really awaiting any reaction.

____________________

“You’re an assistant.” Rosiepuff said firmly as she paced around the hut before stopping in front of the grey troll with a sigh. “You know very well not to treat anyone without me being present. And why is that?”

“I think I—“ Before he could say any more, Branch was interrupted.

“You could jeopardize your entire future. I mean, suppose something went wrong.”

Branch was slumped on an armchair, back leaning against the wall, tired of having to listen to this lecture for the last thirty minutes.

“And you did it with the king’s daughter, huh? What were you thinking?” She sighed and stood back up with sudden strength that nobody knew where it came from. “I leave town for two days—“

“It was just a sprained ankle, Doc!” Branch retorted, sitting upright as he raised his voice. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“Yes Branch, you _thought_ you were doing the right thing.” Rosiepuff said. “I didn’t think you were ready. Evidently, King Peppy doesn’t think that you’re ready.” She released a mutter of incoherent words. “He sent word to the main village. They’re bringing in another doctor."

Branch looked away with sudden guilt gnawing its way inside his chest. He hadn’t meant to put her job at risk, he really hadn’t.

“Branch, when are you going to learn to trust me? Out of my chair.”

With a shake of his head, Branch stood up and walked out of the room, facing down. “When are you going to lean to trust _me_?” He muttered as he disappeared from Rosiepuff’s sight.

The night was quiet, the moon glowing in the heavens, stars embedded into the night sky almost like a painting with a touch of magic.


End file.
